


"I can hear your footsteps"

by call_me_xenophon



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/call_me_xenophon/pseuds/call_me_xenophon
Summary: Charles experiences a nightmare at the mansion after the events of Cairo. He decides to leave your bed-side afraid of ruining your sleep and finds comfort in a drink instead. You wake up without him next to you in bed and set out to find him.





	"I can hear your footsteps"

**Author's Note:**

> Any text that is in Italics is spoken telepathically, the reader's gender is unspecified and up to interpretation.

"Charles?"  
Your voice echoed through the hallways of the mansion. It was quiet, late at night, when the moon peaked on the dark blue sky with its bright white shimmer, making everything seem almost surreal and magical. When you woke up, Charles was not in your bed next to you, never mind in your room at all. Charles was the type to hold you for dear life when you slept, which you did not object to - after everything that happened, you would not blame him anyway. Yet, he was not there. As you walked through the halls, one silent step after the other so as to not wake up the rest, you felt that familiar tingle in your head, as if someone was inside your brain, flipping through your thoughts like a sports magazine. You smiled in relief and enjoyed the familiarity of the gesture that you used to find bizarre and disgusting when you first arrived at Xavier's - although, it felt a lot more sad and hollow than usual, as if your thoughts were his current distraction from whatever kept him away from your shared bed.

 _"Looking for something?"  
_ You chirped before he could look further into your sleepy thought process; you felt him pause. Perhaps humour was not the best approach. He often forgot you could sense him in your mind when he looked around, almost startling him at times.

 _"I can hear your footsteps."  
_ You heard that familiar voice you loved, echoing in your brain. You smiled, wrapping your silky white night-gown closer around you, as you leaned against the wooden wall - it felt colder than you had imagined it to feel, shivering slightly and cursing mentally - bad idea.

 _"No, you can't."_  
And you were correct, he knew - you wore no shoes to make enough noise for anyone to hear, and you were a master at stealth. At least, when it came to getting ice-cream at three in the morning from the kitchen, without waking up Hank. You knew something was wrong; Charles was not a man of awkward silences and bland searches for minds to fiddle with middle of the night. He valued his sleep, as well as his students and friends' personal head-space. Of course, he valued his time with you too, taking into consideration his busy schedule around running an entire school of people who did not know how to yet control themselves on their own. You felt him sigh - oddly enough - before his warm and husky voice echoed through you head again, this time a lot more broken.

 _"Go back to bed, (y/n)."_  
You felt puzzled, not knowing what reason Charles would have to pose for his attitude; dismissive, out of character. Charles Xavier was a man with the patience of a mule, nowhere near dismissive - especially towards you. Standing upright, you answered back, genuine and open in a way that made Charles feel like nothing could ever get between him and his love for you.

 _"Not without you, love."_  
There was a long stretch of silence as you felt Charles desperately trying to find something to say, running through your thoughts in a way that could only mean he was disoriented and deep in thought, looking for something to make him stop thinking. You ran your finger down the hem of your sleeve, anxious. The wind howled as it flew through the window-sills, almost mocking the way you shivered at the cold air.

 _"I'm sorry."_  
He sounded utterly broken, and you found yourself feeling helpless about the whole situation. Was it a nightmare? He had not had one in a very long time. You felt like he had improved on his mental state by teaching after Cairo - after Apocalypse... You were very much aware that Charles kept a stash of Hank's serum, in order to walk without his wheel-chair sometimes. You did not approve of that in any way whatsoever. You took a deep breath, recollecting your thoughts; you knew he was reading them, after all. You did not want him to be reminded of it all over again because of your silly questions. You sat down on one of the velvet sofas between the wooden doors all along the walls, crossing your legs and biting on your nails. A bad, old habit.

 _"Where are you, Charles?"_  
You felt another sigh as you looked around, concerned. Before you could ask again, you felt a figure approaching from your left, yet did not flinch for any apparent danger that could be lurking in the shadows, ready to snatch you away. You knew who it was instantly, from the way the air around them changed when they entered a room to their unique and comforting scent that you always felt yourself melt into every time they were around. Charles rolled his wheel-chair near you and you instinctively got up, looking into his eyes for confirmation - that was completely unnecessary - before you sat on his lap. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest, he rested his chin on your shoulder with a long sigh of what sounded like relief and relaxation; he enjoyed being physical with you, even in the tiniest of ways. He brushed his hand against yours with every chance he found available. You raised your hand up to his nape, caressing the knots that were there softly, earning a tired and thankful moan in return; you felt his lips curl into a smile ever so slightly against your skin, leaving you mirthful. You closed any distance that there was between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his neck firmly and looking at his tired and weary face. He peppered tender kisses on your collar-bone, his thumb stroking your waist along his curled arms around you. His touch felt comforting, but also stiff and uneasy. You smelled alcohol on his breath; you knew right then what the cause of this was.

"Nightmare?"  
You whispered, lowly and softly - music to Charles' ears. He hummed in response, continuing to kiss along your neck and ear, as his hands ran up and down the sides of your waist; he found comfort in your gown's texture, it seemed. Your hand fell down to his jawline, pausing him kissing you as you caressed with your fingers tenderly and received another sigh of content in return.

"I'm sorry, darling."  
He said lowly as he caught your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing along your knuckles lovingly, in a way that screamed of the terror he had seen in his dream. Charles' nightmares were beyond dreams; he lived and experienced them at first hand - a side-effect of being able to use mnemokinesis in your own head. You were the person who understood it the most in his stress-filled life, for which he was eternally grateful to have you by his side. The smell of Whiskey from his breath burned through your nostrils.

"Don't be."  
As your hand left Charles' rough fingers and soft lips, cupped his cheeks as he firmed the grip on your waist with both hands. You stared into his bright blue eyes, filled with uncertainty and guilt, as he stared back at your deep and entrancing pearls. He sighed, resting his forehead against yours, shutting his eyes in a moment of serenity. You felt his muscles relax underneath your hand on his neck, mentally thanking whatever greater force there was for helping this man in the slightest by just... Being you.

"Charles."  
The way his name rolled off your lips sounded like heaven to him. He pulled back slightly with a puzzled expression that had you screaming the words 'cute' in your head. He seemed to have picked up on it and chuckled, his eyes shining. You smiled, stroking your thumb along his jawline as you placed a tender kiss on his slightly parted lips, pulling back to look straight through his fears; he never thought twice about exposing them to you.

"I love you."  
The words escaped his lips just like his huffs of breath did; naturally. He leaned forward, finding your soft lips again as you met his halfway in a kiss full of passion, love and warmth; the warmth only you could feel between each other in moments like these. He felt at home, safe - you did too. When you parted, breathing in each other's scents, Charles looked like had forgotten all about his nightmare. The only thing he cared about was you - you were his only focus at that moment. Your soft lips, your beautiful eyes. He smiled, feeling tears form in his eyes at the magic you could do to him, even when he was the one with telepathic powers of the two of you.

"Come to bed."  
Without hesitation, he unwrapped his arms from your waist as you took his hand with tender fingers and guided him through the dimly lit halls of the mansion back into your bedroom, walking beside his wheel-chair. When you settled in to bed, you felt as if the moon was applauding you for making it through these windy halls in just a silky, thin night-gown. Charles seemed to agree, chuckling lowly as he watched you from his side of the bed.

"Good night, Charles."  
You turned the lights off, deciding to leave the window open; there was no need for extra heat measures when you had Charles next to you. He pulled you closer as you laid your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your ear - feeling calm. He ran his fingers through your hair, humming contently and kissing your forehead, knowing no nightmare would come between him and you that night.

"Good night, my love."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for spending your time to read this, have a good one!


End file.
